


pistols at dawn

by Oxbury



Category: Supergirl (TV 2015)
Genre: F/F, F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-23
Updated: 2018-04-23
Packaged: 2019-04-26 19:29:59
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14409015
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oxbury/pseuds/Oxbury
Summary: It is essential, when killing a Kryptonian, to ensure that one brings an army of sufficient size.For the girl once known as Kara Danvers of National City, General Lucy Lane brought thirteen hundred elite infantry, a fleet of F-15 fighter jets, five mobile weapons platforms specially built for the occasion and equipped with military-grade kryptonite, and one Lena Luthor.





	pistols at dawn

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired by the song Pistols at Dawn by Seinabo Sey, four cups of espresso, the first Resident Evil movie, chocolate brownies, the books Red Sister and Gemina: The Illuminae series book 2, and too many late nights.
> 
> Very much a work in progress. Excuse the short chapter length - not sure if I should continue with this idea, and I haven't published fanfiction in like a billion years, so rather hesitant. Thought I might get the general gist of what everyone thinks first and then mosy on with it. Please let me know if you're interested :)

* * *

 

It is essential, when killing a Kryptonian, to ensure that one brings an army of sufficient size.

 

For the girl once known as Kara Danvers of National City, General Lucy Lane brought thirteen hundred elite infantry, a fleet of F-15 fighter jets, five mobile weapons platforms specially built for the occasion and equipped with military-grade kryptonite, and one Lena Luthor.

 

Ten miles outside the sun shields that guarded what remained of National City, the flattened earth was pale and dry. The early morning sky a dull static, but still bright enough for the sun to glint off the shimmering scales of the last lizards scurrying to hide before the dust of the oncoming army.

 

For the men and women forming ranks, there is nowhere to hide in the wastelands. Nothing left of the hills, little of the valleys. There was no point in hiding anywhere, across the globe, for if Lane did not hunt them down, She would. Her name was no longer spoken, for fear of attracting the attention of a being that could hear a single heartbeat from the other side of state lines.

 

The earth is almost white, leeched of life. The thousand plus black-clad bodies arrayed between the giant insect legs and bulk of the Spyder ballistics platforms colour the landscape, their towering bulk the last green for a thousand miles. The mobile tanks shuffle and skitter like living creatures; impatient, nervous monsters waiting for their handlers to signal the charge, guns ranging across the sky for her arrival. They cover any minuscule gaps the low, swooping shriek of passing fighter jets might miss.

 

A hundred and fifty metres from the columns of warm bodies armed to the teeth stands a woman alone. Her skin is paler than the broken, flattened landscape they rendezvous on, almost translucent if not for the mottling of bruises, old and new. Raven haired and eyes closed, barefoot in the sand, thin red shift dress falling off a bony shoulder. She has not moved to fix it, or adjusted her relaxed stance in the time it has taken for Lane's force to array themselves. Lena Luthor is still and silent, seemingly unbothered by the cold of the early hours.

 

They wait because it is four minutes until the allotted time. Because She - after everything, after both sides had long lost hope of resolution and grown so very weary - had agreed to finally surrender if they would just let her talk to Lena. She had deigned to negotiate solely with General Lane to establish the terms of her surrender, communicating through methods and means known only to the two.

 

It had been long months of little give and take from either side and now they had reached mere minutes before salvation or doom. It may have faded from the memory of the populace, but Lucy Lane and what remained of the combined forces would give up their only remaining trump card for one chance at peace; Lena, the only thing left that mattered to the last scion of Krypton.


End file.
